The bells were ringing out for Christmas Day
by VictoriaPyrrhi
Summary: 31 days of winter themed drabbles to the tune of Soul/Maka and courtesy of the Winter Writing Challenge being passed around on Tumblr. Ratings vary between chapters.
1. Day 1: Sweaters

**Day 1: Sweaters**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Soul's not sure when the tradition started, but Maka gives him a sweater every year without fail. At first, he thinks that it's because she can't think of anything else to get him for Christmas. He had smiled and tried not to cringe at the green and red monstrosity, and had put it on for a couple of minutes to make her smile. It was cute, how excited she was, and it wasn't as if anyone could see him.

The second time it happens, she hands over the sweater with a huge smirk, and he likes the way her eyes twinkle as he unwraps something that's red and kind of sparkly and has sequinned reindeer all over it.

"You're a monster," he says with a grin, and slips it over his head anyway. It's about two sizes too huge and the sleeves go past his hands, but the mischievous smile on her face makes it all worth it.

The third year, he's almost looking forward to his gift because he's got a plan. When he unwraps the sweater, even more hideous than last year's. Soul loves it. He holds up the green abonimation and eyeballs it for a minute.

"What's the matter," she asks, and he can't ignore the little flash of hurt in her eyes. Soul flashes her a toothy smile and beckons her close. She looks at his warily, but scoots closer. In an instant, he's got the sweater up and over her head, tugging it quickly over her ears.

Her head pops through the neck of the sweater, pale hair staticky and wild, and eyes glaring. "Soul!"

Soul takes the opportunity and the chance, and darts in to give her a peck on the lips. It's so fast she could almost think it was a hallucination, except her lips are kind of tingly and his face is beet red.

"W-what was that?" she stutters.

He shrugs a little, cheeks still flushed. "Eh, you know. Mistletoe," he gestures at the sweater, and Maka leans forward, arms still tangled inside the sweater and presses her lips against his.


	2. Day 2: Snowball Fights

**Day 2: Snowball Fights**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

It isn't the first time that Maka's seen snow, but it nearly is. She's spent the entirety of her life in Death City, and her parents had never really had much time for family vacations when she was growing up. She remembers once an impromptu roadtrip to Lake Tahoe during the winter time, and being amazed at the drifts of snow piled high and the sheer rock of the mountains. She also remembers the trip being cut short by a truly spectacular blowout between her mother and father.

The next time she sees snow, it's in London, and she's still too pissed off at her partner to even enjoy it. All she can focus on is the biting cold and the damp seeping into her socks and her frustration. The feeling doesn't dissipate until well after the fight, when she can feel her wavelength and Soul's begin to reconnect.

She's actually feeling pretty good about the whole endeavor when she feels something cold and wet smack into the back of her head. Behind her, she can hear Soul and Black*Star laughing, and the muffled smack of mittened high-fives. She whips around, good mood gone and growls at them.

"What the hell?!"

Black*Star bursts into hearty guffaws and even Tsubaki is trying to politely hide her smile. Soul is out and out grinning at her. He approaches her, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You've got a little something-" he gestures at her face, and she narrows her eyes.

"Is that so?"

"Oh, man, Maka, you should see your face-"

"Black*Star!"

"What, Tsubaki? It's hilarious!"

The ninja is too busy laughing to notice the sloppily formed snowball gently sailing towards his face. It strikes, and Maka can't help the laughter that bubbles up in her throat. Soul chuckles next to her.

"Here," he murmurs, grabbing a handful of snow. "Try and pack it like this." He demonstrates, and Maka watches, fascinated. She grabs her own handful of snow and mimics his actions, and almost misses Black*Star's retaliating shot. It hits her in the shoulder instead, and she gives a little yelp before throwing her ammo back. Soul throws with her, and Black*Star manages to dodge one missile, but not the other. From behind him, Tsubaki sputters, snow melting on her chest.

There is a quiet moment, a pause in the tableau, and then Tsubaki is grinning widely and flinging snow at her meister. Her laughter is infectious, and it only takes a moment for the air to be filled with snowballs.


	3. Day 3: Hot Chocolate or Drinks

**Day 3: Hot Chocolate/Drinks**

**Rating: G**

* * *

There are few things in this world that Soul likes as much as hot chocolate. He remembers cold days when he was younger and his mom after his music lessons. She would smile and take him and Wes into the kitchen and sit them down. Wes took great delight in laughing and telling Maka about how Soul used to be so excited he would practically vibrate off the stool.

He maintains he was justified in his excitement. There was no Nesquik, no SwissMiss in the Evans' home. Lucretia was not a domestically inclined woman, but without fail, she would get down the big saucepan and pull out the milk and the cocoa powder. She was meticulous with the process, and he recalls questions about their lessons and tutoring while she whisked the concoction and made sure the milk didn't scald. He didn't even mind the 3rd degree when the end result was a steaming mug of rich hot chocolate.

Maka doesn't ask where he learned to make the most divine cocoa she's ever had, she just accepts the mug with barely contained glee after a particularly rough day.


	4. Day 4: Books

**Day 4: Books**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

One year, she gets him a book for Christmas. She can't help the nervous fluttering in her stomach as Soul tears into the wrapping paper. She's waiting for the almost imperceptible look of disappointment that the rectangular package isn't a new CD or DVD, but is instead a boring book. Except this book held a special place in her heart, and she just had to share it with him.

He pauses as he uncovers the spine, eyes darting up to hers. "Maka-"

She can feel her face flush. "I'm sorry, I know it's not what you asked for, but-"

"Maka this is your favorite book."

"Yeah, well." She hates the fact that she can feel the redness of her face. She knows she shouldn't have gotten him such a lame gift.

"This is your copy." He recognizes the faint lines in the spine and the way the cover's been taped back on.

"I-it's out of print. I'm sorry, I know it's not new, and it's super lame to get a used gift, and-" She shrugs and contemplates how easy it would be to just get up and run. Except she's trapped suddenly by Soul's arms wrapping around her gingerly, as if he were afraid of her reaction. Maka blinks.

"It's great," he mumbles into her hair, and that isn't helping the blush that's spreading quickly down the back of her neck. He pulls back a little and gives her a grin. "Coolest gift ever."

She gives him a skeptical look, but finds the corners of her mouth twitching upward. "You don't need to be sarcastic. I can just take it back." She reaches for the book, but he holds it just out of her reach.

"Nope, no take-backs!" Maka lunges for the book and topples into her weapon. As they fall back together on the couch, she finds she rather likes the way his arms wraps around her and his rough growl in her ear. "Mine now."


	5. Day 5: Ice Skating

**Day 5: Ice skating**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

They drive to Vegas for an ice rink because she's never been and it's almost Christmas and as far as Soul's concerned, it's a crime that she's 23 and has never strapped on an ice skate.

She asks him why it's so important as they drive through the strip, her eyes caught by the myriad of neon lights and gaudy buildings. In her chest, she can feel a strange sort of excitement.

Soul just shrugs a little. "I grew up skating and skiing with my folks. If I thought the Head Skull-Cheese would pay for it, we'd be going to Colorado instead."

"Colorado, huh?"

"Yeah. They loved the lodges out there," he says neutrally, and once again, Maka is reminded that her weapon comes from the kind of money that can afford to pick up and take vacations at exclusive resorts every year. It kind of weirds her out a little, but it's never been a thing that Soul's made a big deal of.

She's mostly forgotten about it by the time Soul actually manages to get her out on the ice. Primarily because she's kind of completely freaked out. Maka never had much inclination for skates or rollerblades when she was younger, and the addition of metal blades and freezing ice doesn't inspire her confidence.

"C'mon, Maka," Soul wheedles from the rink. She glances down at her feet, then back at her partner. The ice looks particularly slick. Can ice look even more icy than normal? Soul is smirking at her, and she'd have to be blind not to see the challenge there. He holds out his hand and she takes a deep breath and pushes off the wall.


	6. Day 6: Parkas or Big Jackets

**Day 6: Parkas/Big Jackets**

**Rating: G**

* * *

He doesn't like the cold, which, for some reason, Maka finds completely hilarious. Soul hadn't thought that moving to freaking Nevada of all places would require him to buy a parka. At the very least, he hadn't anticipated all the places that they would end up being sent on missions for Shibusen.

Before they're sent to some god-forsaken island off the coast of Alaska, Shinigami insists on an emergency supply run for everyone. Maka goes for the works-parka, earmuffs, scarf, gloves. She might scoff at Soul, but she's well aware of the unusually frigid temperatures they're going to be subjected to. She's so focused on her own purchases, that she doesn't pay any attention to Soul's sharp scrutiny of the goods for sale.

Soul is in weapon form for the vast majority of the mission. It isn't until they're safely ensconced on the boat that will take them back to the mainland that Soul bothers to transform again. They're all tired and discouraged, and Soul wants nothing more than to slump against his meister and draw quietly from her strength and support.

He doesn't expect the way her eyes light up as he transforms, frigid metal to slightly less frigid flesh. He really isn't expecting the enormous grin that splits her face as she eyes him from head to toe, or the faint giggle.

"What?" he barks, scowling. Not that she can tell, thanks to the high collar of his jacket and the scarf and the toboggan yanked over his head. She shakes her head quickly and moves to his side, where she tucks herself against him as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His glower subsides slightly.

They're about halfway back, and he's halfway to a nap when she leans over just slightly, and whispers, "You look like a yeti."


	7. Day 7: Sledding

**Day 7: Sledding**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Black*Star and Tsubaki show up at their door at 3 AM, armed with metal trays and a grin a mile wide. Maka really can't even be mad, despite the fact that they've only been asleep about an hour or so, and tomorrow they're supposed to be in class.

"It's gonna be a snow day, losers. Let's go!" he announces. Maka blinks at them blearily and just barely registers the heat of her weapon as he comes up behind her. Outside, just past Black*Star, she can see the slow, quiet blanket of white building up.

"What the hell, dude?" Soul asks over her shoulder.

"Ssssnoooooow," Black*Star replies with an eyeroll. "Get dressed, we're going sledding."

"This can't wait until morning?" She hears the whine in her voice, but doesn't care. "It's late."

"Nooo, it's early. Now let's move, suckers. If we wait til dawn, we're gonna have to fight people for the freshest snow. And we still gotta get Kid and the Thompsons."

She wants to refuse, but this is her oldest friend, and she can practically feel Soul's excitement. Tsubaki gives her a sheepish but hopeful smile. "Oh, god. Ok. Fine. Give us a sec."

The seven of them end up almost to Shibusen. It's almost four in the morning, and they've got these flimsy beaten metal trays that Black*Star claims he's "liberated" from an unknown source, but Maka thinks she remembers seeing them being used as lunch trays in the Shibusen cafeteria. Pattie's grabbed the lid from a garbage can, and ignores Kid's horrified looks from his tray as she grabs Liz and sits her on the makeshift sled.

"Ready?" she calls out, climbing on behind Liz. Tsubaki grins and gives the blonde a nod. Next to her, Black*Star stands on his tray like it's a snowboard. Soul shoots Maka a look, and she nods. They sit next to each other on their trays and clasp hands. "GO!" Pattie yells.

Together, they push off.


	8. Day 8: Snow Angels

**Day 8: Snow Angels**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

It's some kind of ingrained reaction, she knows. It doesn't get exercised very often, but she's almost powerless to stop it when the conditions present themselves. Her face is red with the cold and maybe a little embarrassment, and her back is soaked with melted snow that's slowly starting to freeze over again, and her partner is staring at her like he thinks she's about to conduct the A-train to Crazytown.

Maka's not sure how to explain her compulsion. She gives Soul a sheepish smile and is about to let him pull her to her feet when she says, "Oh, wait!?"

He pauses obediently, hand clasping hers. "What?"

"I don't want to mess it up," she mumbles, and oh yes, she is definitely blushing now. Soul's lips twitch slightly, but she's not quite sure how to decipher the look on his face.

"Alright. I'll pull you up nice and slow. That better?" She nods, and he gives a light tug. Maka tries to keep her feet planted in one place and to not let her jacket or butt ruin her work of art. She's just clear of the snow when he gives another little tug on her hand, and then she's falling forward and straight into Soul's arms, her feet still stubbornly planted.

"You did that on purpose," she mumbles from his chest, looking up at him with a small glare. She can just make out the curve of his mouth and a hint of teeth from her angle.

"Maaaaybe." She huffs a little as he helps right her. "What's so special about this thing, anyway?" he asks, arms still tight around her.

"My mom," she blurts out before she can stop herself. She thinks his grips tightens just a little bit. "Mama taught me how to make snow angels when I was little. There was this trip to Lake Tahoe and I'd never seen snow before, and we would flop down in this giant drifts of snow while Papa looked on and laughed at us, and she taught me how to move my arms and legs and how to get up without messing the angel up." Her words tumble from her mouth before she can really think about it and bottle it all up again. That trip is a strange mix of painful, bittersweet memories, but she kind of feels better for having gotten it out.

"Well then," he murmurs after a moment. She can see that something in his eyes again, and this time she thinks that she might have an idea of what it is. "Can't have you messing it up, right?"

"Wha-"

Soul shifts his arms a little and lifts her up and out of the snow, swinging her around and away from her snow angel. "See? Perfect. I bet your mom would be proud."

He doesn't let go of her, even after he's set her down, and she doesn't move away. She lets her hand grip the front of his jacket, and tucks herself into his side. Her snow angel is perfect.


	9. Day 9: Fireplaces or Candlesticks

**Day 9: Fireplaces/Candlesticks**

**Rating: PG13**

**Part 1/3**

* * *

The cabin is pretty much picture perfect. Unfortunately, that's about the only thing about it that's perfect. It's drafty with glass windows that let in enough cold air to make the curtains rustle, and there's only one room and a miniscule bathroom with an ancient clawfoot tub.

At least, Maka thinks, there's indoor plumbing. She can deal with a tiny sink and stove and a small bathroom as long as there's running water. And the proprietors did stock the cupboards for them, which was nice. The bed looks rickety and musty, but she's not as concerned about that. Hopefully, they won't need to stay here for more than a day or two while they're on this assignment. The door pops open as she's contemplating their lodging, bringing Soul and a frigid gust of wind with it.

"Hey Maka! Look what I found!" He is far too excited about the armful of wood he's got, as far as she's concerned. When she isn't forthcoming with her response, he continues, "You know...for the fireplace."

She grins a little at that because, despite her misgivings, seeing Soul enthusiastic about something is hard not to respond to. And really, the over-sized stone hearth and fireplace is the one thing in the cabin that exceeds expectations.

"Did you go out and cut that yourself," she asks with a smile.

He rolls his eyes, but still smirks at her. "No, I did not. This time." He sets the stack down by the fireplace. "No guarantee I won't have to as some point, though. It looks like it's going to start snowing out there."

Maka's face falls at that. "Seriously?" He nods and begins arranging the wood in the grate. Maka moans a little. "Dammit. I was hoping we could get this assignment over with nice and quick."

"Eh, maybe we still can. The hunt should be on first thing tomorrow, and it's not too bad out there right now-just cold."

It takes him longer than he'd like to admit to get the fire going. Maka makes tea and soup on the little stove and shivers a little under her hoodie and the sweatshirt she stole from Soul's suitcase. By the time she gets dinner ready, the blaze is pretty respectable, and she feels comfortable enough to shrug out of Soul's sweatshirt.

He gives her a slow lazy grin as she does, and she can feel her face heating up

in a way that doesn't have anything to do with the temperature. She drops the sweatshirt on his head unceremoniously, and drops to sit beside him in front of the hearth. They lean against each other, backs against the prehistoric couch and eat their dinner to the warm crackle of burning logs.

* * *

**A/N: **The next couple of prompt seemed to go together pretty well, so have a little mini story within all the drabbles!


	10. Day 10: Snowed In

**Day 10: Snowed In**

**Rating: PG13**

**Part 2/3**

* * *

They're out early the next morning, bundled up well against the biting cold. Maka's absurdly glad that Soul's prediction about snow didn't come true, and the day dawned bright and clear. Even with her soul perception thrown wide open, it takes them the better part of the day to find the pre-kishin.  
It's holed itself up in a burrow, and they find it partially due to her perception, and partially because they can both smell the warm rot of flesh being devoured. It makes her stomach turn, but the smell covers up their approach, and their strategy helps them get the jump on the beast-like monster once called Magnus Poedus.

The whole ordeal is over in a matter of minutes. Maka's blood pumps hot and fast as she avoids razorsharp swipes, and she doesn't notice the sky darkening as she yells her fury at the pre-kishin and swings her weapon with deadly accuracy. All told, it isn't much of a fight at all, and she's not sure whether to be thankful that the mission was so simple, or disappointed that they came out here for such minor fight. Soul transforms and wastes no time sucking down his prize.

"We should head back," he says, still licking his lips. The first snowflake falls and melts on the tip of his nose.

By the time they make it back to the cabin to pack, the snow is coming down in great big silent flakes, and they're already having to shuffle through small drifts. Soul goes ahead and drags in a few more armfuls of wood. Maka frowns a little at him.

"Don't you think we should try to make it back?" she asks as he starts the fire up.

"I don't think that's going to happen," he says. "It's already coming down-I doubt we'd be able to make it to town, and by the time we do, I don't think we'd be making it out of town."

"Do you think we're gonna be stuck here?" She can't help the apprehension in her voice. She doesn't mind the snow, but the thought of being stuck somewhere with no recourse makes her a little nervous.

"I dunno. I guess we're going to find out. We've got enough food to last us a few days, so we ought to be fine." He tries to be reassuring, but he can't miss the tenseness in her shoulders. It bothers him that he can't provide more comfort, so instead he starts the fire back up in the grate. He's faster at it the second time around, and pretty soon the cabin is flooded with warmth. Perhaps the whole one-room aspect isn't such a disadvantage after all.

Soul plants his meister firmly in front of the fireplace and brings her some hot cocoa. Her eyes bore into his, cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she murmurs.

"Eh, it's just SwissMiss," he says, and she shakes her head a little.

"You know that's not what I meant."

His eyes say that he catches her drift, but what comes out of his mouth is something like, "Are you going to drink those mini marshmallows?"

Outside the snow begins to pile up.

* * *

**A/N: **Part 2/3. Smut's coming up next!


	11. Day 11: Quilts

**Day 11: Quilts**

**Rating: M**

**Part 3/3**

* * *

It only gets colder as the evening wears on. They manage to scrounge up a giant pot of pasta, and Maka smacks him on the back of the head with the serving spoon when he tries to go back for thirds.

"What if we really are snowed in?" she asks, and he can hear the muffled panic in her tone. "I'd like there to still be food left if we can't leave."

"But Maaakaaa," he whines a little bit, but drops it at the look on her face, and only grumbles a little bit more as he tosses another log on the fire. Maka curls up on the small sofa with her book, and he pops in his headphones and pulls out his PSP. Maka rolls her eyes a little at him, but he just smiles and arranges his legs around her.

They stay like that for a while, basking in the warmth and the companionship until Soul notices that his partner is fidgeting more and more. It's faint, but there-her eyes flick up from her book to check the fire every other minute and her fingers tap against the spine of her novel, and it's really only a matter of time before-

"Soul?"

"Mm?" He's already got his game paused, waiting for her question.

"What if we run out of wood?"

"We're not going to run out of wood, Maka."

"Yeah, but what if we do?"

He sighs and shifts his feet. "Is this your way of asking me to go bring more wood in?" She bites her lip and he kind of hates how irresistible that look is. "...Fine."

"Thank you, Soul-do you want me to help? I can chop wood if you want?"

"What, with me?" he grins. She flushes slightly. "I think I can take care of it. There should still be some out there, it just might be a little damp. Besides, no sense in both of us freezing our tits off." She sends him an unamused glare, and he bares his teeth at her in a grin.

As paranoid as she's being, he can kind of acknowledge that it would be nice if, come morning, they don't have to try and brave the storm for more firewood. As he steps out into the weather, Soul thinks that being snowed in is looking more and more likely. He painstakingly brings in several more heaping armloads of wood, which Maka grabs from him as he comes in the door. Together, they end up with a sizeable, if wet, pile of fuel. By the time the door's shut, Soul's shivering despite his layers, and Maka shoots him a worried look.

"It's fine," he mumbles, rolling his eyes as she helps strip him of his damp scarf and jacket. He's still shaking a little, though, and Maka plants him directly in front of the fireplace.

"I've got an idea," she says, and he really likes the way her green eyes smile at him. She scurries away and he has enough time to blink before he's being smothered in an armload of quilts from the bed.

"Wha-" he sputters, slapping blankets away. He comes face to face with Maka, who is very definitely in his personal space, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I thought maybe we didn't need the bed tonight-I mean, it's so far away from the fireplace and-"

He's struck by the firelight on her skin, and the way she manages to be both excited and still a little hesitant and he can't help leaning forward those last few inches to press his lips against hers. She kisses him back eagerly, hands pressed against his chest, heart pounding.

Soul pulls away long enough to smirk at her. "You know, I've got a few ideas, too. Ways we can keep warm by the fire-"

She returns his smirk. "That's what the quilts are for, dumbass." But she kisses him again anyway. Her blood hums in her veins as they shift, limbs awkwardly tangled in the excess of blankets. "Here, get up." She giggles a little at Soul's pout, but he moves anyway, and together they arrange the quilts into a makeshift pallet.

There is a nervous sort of energy between them as they work together-motions familiar but filled with a context that is new and electrifying every time they brush against each other. Soul adds another log on the fire as Maka retrieves the pillows from the bed. It isn't as though this is the first time that they've shared a bed, or even the first time that they've fooled around, but this feels different somehow.

Maybe it's the cabin, maybe the fire or the way they're equal parts tired and keyed up from the hunt earlier. Maybe it's the snowstorm. Soul finds he doesn't really care as her lips slide against his, hands fisting carefully into his shirt. His hands rest against her waist as he returns her kiss. She moans into his mouth, and he can taste the last remnants of the peppermint she'd been chewing on after dinner, cool and sharp. He inhales and pulls her closer; he doesn't know if that sets off some kind of unknown signal in her mind because her mouth and hands become frantic, and he's matching her intensity. Fingers slip beneath waistbands and up shirts and her skin has never felt so soft and warm and inviting.

She arcs into the feeling of his teeth scraping along her neck, breath hitching in her throat as he clutches her hips, rocking against her. Maka shudders faintly against him and he stumbles just slightly.

It's enough to send them both crashing to the floor, squarely on the pile of quilts. Soul feels the wind get knocked out of him, and they're both still for a moment, shocked into silence. Maka's the first to break the stillness with a faint giggle. She thumps her head lightly against his collarbone, shoulders shaking. "That was dumb," she chuckles, and he snickers a little, mouth warm against her temple.

"Only a little bit," he says, and when she looks up long enough to shoot him a look, he darts in to capture her lips once more. There is a fire going, and they are snowed in and can't be interrupted by cat housemates or deathscythe papas with eerie sixth senses or really terrible ninjas. He is not about to waste this opportunity.

The last of her laughter is smothered as she slips her tongue into his mouth and oh this is so much better, stretched out on top of her weapon; their legs tangle together and the fall is forgotten as he coaxes her shirt off and she makes quick work of his belt buckle. Despite the fire, the air of the cabin is still frigid on their bared skin, and they try to get under the warmth of the quilts as quickly as possible, which results in a few knocked knees, a large amount of laughing, and surreptitious touches that result in more than a few rough moans.

It's almost too hot under the blankets, but she's too busy tracing the planes of Soul's skin. She wants to map every scar, ridge, muscle-that little place at his hipbone. She uses her mouth for that one and her pulse sings in time with his sharp gasp. His fingers skim over damp skin, sinking briefly into her, drawing out a noise she didn't think she could make.

Their touches are agonizingly slow and frantic and she doesn't understand how his fingertips can sear her skin, or how simply his gaze can make her body tight with longing. So she doesn't try to understand it. She hovers above him as they move together and feels: hot, slick skin, warm breaths against her neck, the soft cotton under her knees and elbows, the strange, wonderful fullness.

She shakes as he shudders and swallows her cry.

As the fire burns down, they remain wrapped up in each other and the quilts.

* * *

**A/N: **And part 3/3! Hope you all enjoyed, and I wish you the merriest of holidays for you and your loved ones. Stay safe and warm and know that I love you to pieces!


	12. Day 12: Mistletoe or plain smooches

**Day 12: Mistletoe or plain smooches**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Liz and Tsubaki agree, it is the perfect foolproof plan. After all, there's nothing suspicious about mistletoe at a holiday party. That's normal. Expected, even. Really, Liz insists, they would be bad hosts if there wasn't mistletoe. Tsubaki agrees wholeheartedly.

When their friends show up at Gallows Mansion, they're greeted with enormous strands of pine and holly festooned with impressively symmetrical red bows and an undeniably festive air. They're also greeted with tiny sprigs of mistletoe over every single door. Tsubaki shoots Liz a look at that, and the blonde shrugs sheepishly.

"Kid's idea," she mumbles under her breath, and that's all Tsubaki needs to know.

"Well...I guess it improves our odds?"

"Unless they figure out what's going on and never go through a doorway together!"

Tsubaki waves her hand. "I'm sure it'll be fine. You know how clueless Maka is." Liz looks disgruntled, but nods. Maybe it would be fine.

The thing is, Maka is clueless. Tsubaki isn't sure if she just forgets that every door she walks under has a spring of the festive greenery, or if she never registers it in the first place. She completely bypasses at least of their classmates before she's snagged by an over enthusiastic nogged up Kim. The girl latches onto Maka's wrist with a wide grin and plants one half on Maka's lips, half on the side of her face before releasing her and slipping through the doorway. In a partial state of shock, Maka stumbles over to her weapon, who has planted himself firmly against a wall for the vast majority of the night. She blinks a few times, and Soul gives her a look that's vaguely sympathetic, but mostly amused.

"What-" She doesn't quite understand the tightness around the corners of his eyes, but he keeps smiling at her.

"Oh, just Liz and Tsubaki's idea of a holiday prank," he says, eyes darting to the various sprigs.

"But Kim-"

He doesn't even pretend to hide his grin. "Kim is drunk, and you were under the mistletoe." He practically whispers it in her ear, like it's some kind of secret, and it makes the skin on the back of her neck tingle.

"Nobody else kissed me," she muttered, and Soul looks smug.

"Hm."

"Why won't you kiss me," she asks suddenly, and he almost chokes on his cider. Perhaps, she thinks, Kim is not the only one who has had a little too much to drink. Soul shifts against the wall awkwardly, and she doesn't think that she's imagining the faint tinge of red on his cheeks.

"Because," he finally replies, "when I kiss you, you're going to know it wasn't because of some stupid bit of greenery."


	13. Day 13: Snowmen

**Day 13: Snowmen**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

She doesn't understand building snowmen. Of all the things to do in the snow, that one seems like the least fun. Perhaps it's because of all the Christmas specials she used to watch with her papa-the ones where the snowmen were always huge and round and perfect.

Maka tried to build one once, but there wasn't enough snow to work with, and even through her gloves, the snow was frigid. She got up just enough snow for the bottom part before realizing that it was hideously ugly-lumpy and barely round and full of detritus from the ground. It didn't help matters that her efforts had left behind a slushy brown mess of bare, half-frozen ground.

She looked at her barely there snowman, and thought about those Christmas specials full of magical living snowmen and what would happen if this snowman tried to come to life, half formed and lumpy and gross, and promptly burst into a fit of six-year-old tears.

She'd never made the attempt again.


	14. Day 14: Hot Baths

**Day 14: Hot Baths**

**Rating: PG13**

* * *

It's an indulgence really-something that she only does every once in a while, or when she's had such a rough day that all her muscles are screaming agony and she thinks that the embarrassment of Soul having to pull her out of the tub is worth everything to be able to soak her aching body.

So when she comes home from her obligatory family visit with her father, the last thing she expects is for Soul to greet her at the door with a sheepish smile, a mug of her favorite tea, and the scent of her sole bottle of bath salts wafting through the apartment. She can feel her face go a little red.

"W-what?" Her voice cracks a little and she clears her throat. "What's all this for?"

Soul shrugs a shoulder. "Thought you might be needing a little stress relief after Christmas with Spirit." She kind of wants to hug him for that, and maybe risk a little kiss on the cheek because it's very sweet of him. She scowls at him instead.

"It wouldn't have been as stressful if you'd have just gone with me too," she accuses. Even to her ears it sounds pretty half-hearted.

He hands over the mug of tea. "No thanks. I have to subject myself to your father enough as it is; I don't need yet another day of him questioning my intentions towards his 'little angel'."

"And just what are your intentions?" She can't help the grin as she makes her way to the bathroom, shedding coat and scarf with her partner's help. The tea is already doing wonders to calm her frazzled nerves.

"Oh, you know. The usual," he nips the shell of her ear lightly as he snatches the knit hat from her head as she tries to kick off her boots..

"Completely dishonorable?"

"Entirely," he growls, and Maka giggles.

"You know," she pauses at the bathroom door. "That hot bath is looking really nice right about now." Soul smiles, please with himself.

"It'll look a lot more inviting with you in it." Her grin matches his, and he crowds her into the bathroom with a fierce kiss, kicking the door shut behind them.


	15. Day 15: Winter Hats and Mittens

**Day 15: Winter Hats and Mittens**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

"I look stupid," he insists, raising a hand to his forehead. Maka slaps it away imperiously.

"No you don't. You look just like everyone else."

"Yeah, and everyone else looks ridiculous," he growls. His hand inches upwards again.

"Soul Eater Evans don't you dare."

His hand creeps closer to the brim of his hat. Maka removes her hands from her hips and crosses them across her chest. Her foot is about to start tapping, but hasn't started yet. He decides to risk it. Red eyes lock with forest green as his fingers flick up and pop the hideous cap off. Soul has just enough to smirk before Maka's copy of "A Christmas Carol" slams into his skull.

When he regains consciousness, it's to the sight of his meister smiling serenely and reading her book. He rubs his head gingerly, only to find that his hands are completely encased in, he cringes just looking at them, mittens. Big fluffy mittens. And that cap is back on his head, awful giant earflaps and all. He scowls up at Maka, who doesn't even give him the satisfaction of looking up from her book.

"You know, if you'd just left it alone, this wouldn't have been a problem," she chirps, flipping a page. Soul contemplates breaking out the sad puppy eyes, but it's not worth it if she won't even look at him.

"You're cruel." He still likes the way the corner of her mouth quirks up.

"Cruel is going to be that hat hair you have later, Eater."

Fuck.


	16. Day 16: Shaking from the cold

**Day 16: Shaking from the cold**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

"You know, you don't have to come with me if you don't want."

Maka tucks in her scarf a little tighter, and gives her weapon a bright smile. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I want to come with you!" He stifles a sigh.

On one hand, he's extremely grateful that he's not going to have to weather the holiday with his family all by himself. On the other, he's completely and utterly terrified-terrified of going home, of seeing his family again, of Maka meeting his family, of the implications of Maka meeting his family. He can feel himself start to hyperventilate just thinking about it. He can feel the small weight of her hand against his arm, and he swallows hard.

"Unless you don't want me to come with you?" she asks, and he can hear the slight waver in her voice that means she's steeling herself.

"N-no, no. That's not what I meant." She looks up at him, head cocked to the side, and for a brief moment, he contemplates the fact that she is actually looking up at him. Something in his chest tightens. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. "I want you to come with me, I just..." Words have never been his strong suite. "My family is...ugh-"

He doesn't know how to tell her that he loves his family, but they're judgmental and he can't fathom the idea that they might not like her because she is Maka, and to him, she is perfect. She slips her hand into his.

"Your family loves you Soul."

"I know."

"It will be fine," she says, green eyes firm. He gives her his first genuine smile of the day. The wind whips up and despite her scarf, Maka shivers violently. Soul tugs her a little closer, and tucks her into his jacket.

"Shoulda worn a heavier coat," he mumbles into her neck. His breath tickles and she restrains a giggle.

"I didn't think the train was going to be late, jerk."

"Mhm." She's still shaking against him, and he tightens his arms. For a moment, it's just them and the brisk wind. Soul sighs quietly. "I'm scared," he says so softly that she almost misses it. She squeezes him. "My family is very traditional and very uptight, and I just want you to be comfortable and they're not comfortable people." His words go straight to her heart, and she pulls back to give him a quick kiss.

He hugs his meister just a little closer, and smiles into her hair. "Still cold?"

"Mm." She nuzzles back into his coat. "Nice and warm."

They stay that way until the train comes, nearly twenty minutes late. "About goddamn time," Soul mutters, and Maka pinches his side lightly. He squirms a little, but she can see the grin he represses. Her breath catches.

"Hey Soul?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to be with you, right?" He nods, herding her towards the train.

"Of course."

"Then I'll be comfortable."

He doesn't hide his smile this time, clasping her hand as they board the train.


	17. Day 17: Snow Shoveling

**Day 17: Snow Shoveling**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Her back hurts. It's the one thought that runs through her brain as she attempts to shovel snow.

"You know," she begins conversationally. "I swing a scythe around all day. You'd think that this wouldn't be a problem."

"Shovelling is a little different than swinging," her partner replies. Something between her shoulders twinges and she stops the repetitive motion, straightening and stretching. "Oh wow, I heard that."

Maka cringes. "It felt worse than it sounded, believe me."

"I bet." She can almost hear the laugh in his words, and it irritates her. She huffs a little and goes back to her work.

"You owe me a backrub after this is all over," she finally mutters.

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean why? I'm doing all the work here!"

"I did offer, you know."

"And just how did you think that that was going to work? We don't have a freakin' shovel!"

"Well you're not the only one working hard here."

"You're just...there."

"Yeah, getting scraped against the concrete; thanks for that by the way!"

"It's not my fault we don't have a shovel! We live in Nevada!"

"You grew up here-"

"Yeah, and we never needed a damn snow shovel before!" She swings her partner into the soft drift of snow perhaps a little harder than normal. There is the sharp scrape of metal against concrete, and Soul's irritated,

"Ow!"

"Sorry," she singsongs cheerfully.

_CLANG_.

"Ugh ok ow stop I'll give you a backrub later, I promise!" She eases up a bit, pushing the snow around rather than trying to whack it out of the way.

"I could maybe make you some cider later?" She offers after a few minutes of silence shoveling.

"I could go for that."


	18. Day 18: Hibernate or Sleep

**Day 18: Hibernate or Sleep**

**Rating: PG13**

* * *

It's hard enough getting him out of bed when it's warm outside. It's nearly impossible when the chill of winter sets in. Maka's convinced that she can actually judge when the weather will be turning by how difficult it is to get her partner out of bed.

7:00AM is too early, even for her, but she knows if she doesn't get up, they're going to be late at best and late and unfed at worst. The alarm buzzes obnoxiously in her ear and she groans before shutting it off. For a long, quiet moment, she lays there, basking in the warm nest of covers she's made in the night. There is the comfort of her bed and then the certainty of the freezing tile floor that she knows is waiting. Her slippers are across the room, and her socks will not be enough to save her toes.

7:10 and she knows that it's like ripping off a bandaid. Gotta do it all at once. She flings off her comforter and stifles a shriek. She cringes her way over to her slippers and robe and slips out her door. The rest of the apartment isn't much warmer, and she's not sure if the temperature just dropped dramatically in the night, or if they were too cheap to bump the heat up.

A quick glance at the thermostat confirms the too cheap theory. She contemplates hopping in the shower immediately, lured by the idea of hot water, but heads for Soul's room instead. If she doesn't start the process of waking him now, he'll never be up in time for school.

"Soul." All she can see is the top of his head peeking out from his covers. He doesn't even stir. She shuffles further into the room.

"Soooul."

"Hng."

It's not much, but at least it's a response. "Come on, Soul, it's time to get up." He shifts slightly, and she prods him with one pointy finger. "Soooooul."

"Makaaaa." It comes out as a low rumble, and she's shocked that she managed to get anything resembling words out of her partner.

"Time to wake up, sleepyhead." He shifts a little and groans.

"Hhggnfdhd_cold_."

"What?"

"Cold," it's a little clearer this time, but she still has to lean over him to make it out.

"You are such a baby," she mutters, completely forgetting the fact that she'd been in this exact position barely 20 minutes ago. Below her, he shifts again and grumbles. Maka sighs and tries to hide the affectionate smile with a stern face. It doesn't work. "I will pull those covers off," she threatens, and can't hide the grin at his alarmed squeak.

Her hand is one the comforter when his arm shoots out of the blankets, hand wrapping around her wrist. There is a flurry of covers and limbs and shrieking and then Maka is safely ensconced in Soul's bed, comforter tucked up almost over her head. Her weapon's nose is buried in her neck, one arm tucked around her waist securely.

"Soul, what the hell?" She tries to ignore the way she can feel her heart hammering in her chest.

"Warm," he murmurs against her neck, and she can't help but agree because his breath is warm, hot even, and she can feel the tension in her limbs easing slowly. She can tell by the way he shifts against her and the small curve of his lips on her skin that he's awake enough to know exactly what he's doing. The thought doesn't bother her as much as she's pretty sure that it should.

"We have school," she tries, and he tightens his grip on her waist slightly.

"Too cold. Iced up last night," he rejoins, and really, she can't find fault with that. She hadn't checked the weather when she got up this morning. It's perfectly plausible that her partner is right, and then doesn't it make the most sense just to stay here?

She wiggles against him, burrowing further into the covers and oh this is so much warm than her own bed. She thinks that his bed might even be more comfortable in general. "Ok," she says, and she knows that she isn't imagining his smile, or the way he spoons her just that much closer.


	19. Day 19: Cookies, Cake, or Gingerbread

**Day 19: Cookies, Cake, or Gingerbread**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Baking is a time honored winter tradition for Maka. There is something about the cool air and the changing of seasons that makes her crave the scent of gingerbread and spices. As soon as Halloween is done, she's already starting to stock up on flour and sugar and molasses.

Winter, despite the biting winds and the extra discomfort when it comes to riding his bike, has swiftly become one of his favorite seasons since he partnered up with Maka. She's already a decent cook when they start to live together, but her baking is something else entirely. He can set his watch by how frequently they come home and she squirrels herself away in the kitchen to try a new cookies recipe she's found. It's strangely domestic and endearing in a way that he really doesn't want to analyze.

Instead, he helps whenever she asks him to (but only with the appropriate amount of grumbling, and he never volunteers even if he thinks it might kind of maybe be fun) and enjoys the sweet, sugary fruits of her labor. She never seems to mind, just gives him a secretive smile and says that she's glad she has him for a guinea pig.

For Maka, there is something strangely satisfying about the piles of baked goods that start accumulating at the start of December. She likes that she can leave little anonymous saran-wrap parcels of cookies for Stein and Marie and in their classmates' lockers. She especially enjoys that fact that she can keep spares in her bookbag and toss them at her father as a diversionary tactic during the holidays.

She doesn't examine too closely how she makes sure that Soul gets the first taste of everything she bakes up, or how she maybe (definitely) pays attention to what he can't help but scarf down and how she tends to make that more.


	20. Day 20: Scarves

**Day 20: Scarves**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Maka has always liked scarves. She's not sure how it happened, but she's got a small collection of them hanging on a hook on the back of her bedroom door. There is something satisfying about curling a scarf around her neck-the way it hangs, the warmth against the back of her neck, the way she can bury her nose in it and just breathe.

Her friends oblige her, and she gets a new scarf just about every year for Christmas. She's got green and silver and striped ones, plaid and argyle, short and long-some are wool, some plain cotton, others are made of this super soft material that she has no name for. She loves every one of them. Her favorite thing however, is to put her scarves on Soul.

It starts one surprisingly cold day in early winter. Soul's got his leather jacket zipped all the way up, but he's still shivering a little. They haven't even gotten on the bike yet. She tells him to hold on for just a moment, and she darts back inside the apartment for another scarf. When she hops on the back of the bike, he gives her a questioning look over his shoulder, and she just smiles and holds out a red argyle scarf Liz had gotten her a few years ago.

"Thought this might help," she grins, and he holds still long enough for her to wrap the wool around his neck and tuck the ends into his jacket.

"Thanks," he mumbles, and she can see the hint of a smile as he revs the engine.

She takes just about any opportunity she can to throw a scarf on her partner-once she manages to drape the insanely fluffy purple scarf that Tsubaki made for her and snap a picture with her phone. Maka's not sure what, exactly, is the appeal of putting her scarves on her partner. Maybe it's that he sometimes leaves her breathless with his crooked grins, or the fact that he lets her put him in purple fluffy scarves and doesn't seem to mind.


	21. Day 21: Soup

**Day 21: Soup**

**Rating: PG**

**Part 1/2**

* * *

There is something to be said for having another roommate. Most of the time, Maka has learned in relation to Blair, that means an added level of irritating unpredictableness. Sometimes Blair will pay for her portion of the bills, sometimes she won't. And then there are the times when Maka and Soul come home from a grueling mission to find a hastily scrawled note that reads "Made this for you! Back in a few days :3~" and a gigantic pot of soup.

It smells surprisingly good, and Maka is once again reminded that, as long as their roommate isn't charring fish, she's actually a pretty decent cook. She feels Soul's warmth as he comes up behind her.

"Mm, what's in the pot?"

"It looks like chicken noodle."

"What, really?"

Maka gives the soup a stir, and they both take a whiff of the chickeny aroma. "Smells like it."

"Smells fresh," Soul adds, surprised. They don't think much more about the soup because they're exhausted and cold, and all they want to do is get clean and eat, and only in that order because it's been days since they've seen a shower. Maka clicks the stove on low heat so the soup can begin to reheat, and calls dibs on first shower.

The hot water feels amazing as she washes off the dirt and grime and feel of kishin egg. As much as she wants to stay in there forever, there is an equally grody partner waiting for the shower, and soup waiting on the stove.

Soul's done in record time, and Maka ladles them both out generous portions of the soup, and they plop themselves in front of the TV with satisfied soup's better than either of them expected, and Maka hums under her breath.

"Blair must have done something really terrible she's trying to apologize for," she jokes and Soul chuckles in agreement.

And then the power goes out.

* * *

**A/N: **Another quick two parter!


	22. Day 22: Huddle for warmth

**Day 22: Huddle for Warmth**

**Rating: PG13**

**Part 2/2**

* * *

They sit in the dark, soup forgotten.

"I'm going to kill that cat," Maka mutters after a long moment. Next to her, Soul shifts and starts eating his soup again. She shoots him a look, and it's dark, but not dark enough that he can't tell she's glaring at him.

"What? If the power's out, soup's just gonna get cold and then we can't heat it up." Fuck, she hadn't thought of that. She digs in and tries not to think about the giant pot of soup still on the stove, slowly getting cold. "Besides," he says through a mouthful of soup, "I'm still fucking hungry. And it's the end of December-even the power company's not going to keep the power off when it's freezing outside."

Maka doesn't even dignify that with a response. Instead, she finishes up her soup, gets a second bowl, and starts making plans for how they're going to stay warm in the night. She thinks that they still have some candles laying around (a well meaning if impersonal gift from her mother the last time she passed through), and between the two of them there were probably a decent number of comforters-enough to keep the chill off. She sticks her bowl in the dishwasher and pulls out a pot. Soul gets another bowl as well, and watches her curiously as she fills the pot

"What are you doing?"

"Stocking up on water," she says, and then she's off again, looking for those candles.

Her diligence pays off a few hours later when the power's still not on and she and Soul have decided to congregate in her room because it's just a little warmer in there and they can shut the door with the candles going and it's almost like the power isn't out. They don't discuss the fact that Soul's curled up on her bed, or that she's got an arm resting on him as she tries to read by candlelight. She doesn't mention that his very presence in her room is distracting because it's her space and she hopes her bed might end up smelling a little like him and he doesn't mention how her sheets and pillow are the most soothing thing he's ever experienced and it's so lame because it's barely ten PM and all he can think about is going to sleep here, with her.

"Do you mind if I blow out the candles," she asks after a bit. Her eyes feel heavy, and she's really only a little mad at Blair because Soul is turning and stretching as he looks at her.

"Nah, go ahead."

She hops out of bed just long enough to plunge the room in darkness, and then skitters back to her bed, feet chilled by the tile even through her slippers. Soul's got the covers turned back, and it's the work of a second to kick off her slippers and dive into bed next to her weapon. She's not sure how it manages to be weird and yet completely normal all at once as she tries to warm her feet on his calves and he laughs a little and tries to squirm away but really, he's just using it as an excuse to tangle their legs together.

They laugh and poke and prod, and her nose is smushed against his collarbone and his leg is trapped between both of hers and her room smells like her comforter and his comforter, and Maka thinks that when Blair gets back she's going to yell at the cat, but she's also maybe going to slip her some really good tuna.

* * *

**A/N:** Dawww and there's part 2!


	23. Day 23: Sick

**Day 23: Sick**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

She hates being sick more than anything else in the world. Perhaps it's because it happens so rarely, though mostly it's because she hates being reliant on another person.

Soul understands that more than most, and he does his best to take care of her without making it obvious. He leaves a stack of her favorite books next to her bed and brings in her homework from the classes she misses without asking. She wakes from fever induced naps to find OJ and meds waiting for her.

She wants to be a little mad at him every time it happens. She admonishes him that he should keep away lest he get sick too, but really her fear lies much deeper. Soul nods and takes her berating, and tells her that she is a terrible patient with a grin and then subsequently ignores all her carefully laid out reasons why he needs to stay away. She is his meister, and more importantly she is his friend and Maka and it is not duty or obligation that makes him bring her hot soup and tissues and extra blankets. It isn't even the knowledge that she would do the exact same thing for him if he were sick.


	24. Day 24: Socks or Boots

**Day 24: Socks or Boots**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

"Come on, Maka." She's slumped halfway over his shoulder, and he's having a hard time not panicking completely because she's barely responsive and for once, he's really wishing that he had a car and not that fucking motorcycle because she was freezing and the ride back home didn't help matters any. She makes an unintelligible noise as he practically kicks their door down.

He helps her to the couch and gets her settled, wrapping the blanket they keep on the back of the couch around her shoulders carefully. Gratefully, she snuggles into it. Soul's not sure where it all went pineapple shaped during their mission, but he doesn't hesitate grabbing one frigid foot.

"Soul-" her voice is exhausted, and he thinks that he can actually hear her shiver.

"Shh. I've got this, ok?" He looks up at meets weary green eyes. She blinks slowly and finally nods.

"Ok."

Her winter boots are thick and solid, but that apparently doesn't mean much when they're submerged in icy streams. His fingers are chilled and clumsy as he tries to pick at half frozen laces. It takes him almost a full minute before he gives up and ignores Maka's half-hearted protest.

"I'll buy you new boots," he says, and then his finger's a little scythe and he's slicing through the troublesome laces. He tugs the boots off one by one and doesn't care where they land as he tosses them. He can see the goosebumps pebbling the skin above her wet socks.

Heavy, sodden wool gets rolled down and flung away, and he's got both of her freezing feet in his lap as he tries to rub the warmth back into them, back into his meister. Tomorrow he thinks that he will berate her for pulling such a stupid stunt, but he's also going to go out and get her a new (better) pair of boots (and maybe a few more pairs of ridiculously warm socks).

* * *

**A/N: **Special thanks to Darkpurply (the amazing Pur) for helping me out with ideas for this prompt!


	25. Day 25: Trade Gifts or Donate

**Day 25: Trade Gifts or Donate**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Christmas is probably her favorite holiday. For Maka, it isn't just a day, it's the whole month of December, the feeling of Christmas in the air. She even loves the cheesy, terrible, over-played Christmas songs blaring from every shop. She loves shopping for Christmas presents and knowing, just knowing, that she got the perfect gift for someone.

More than all of that, though, she loves the feeling of togetherness. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that she's a lucky girl. She's still got her father who loves her (despite the fact that he can't seem to show it in any fashion that doesn't make her want to run), and her mother's postcards. But best of all, she has the best set of friends that anyone could hope for. She's got the best partner that she could ask for. It's terribly corny, and it might take an act of god for her to admit it out loud, but really they're the best present of all and she's so thankful.

She might not say it, but she'll show it. She makes cookies for days and pulls Soul out of his room to help her decorate. Kid offers up the mansion for a Christmas party, but Maka insists they at least have something small at their apartment. She wants the cramped and cozy feel of everyone clustered around the coffee table, hot cocoa and ciders in hand-she wants the torn wrapping paper on the floor and the smiles and teasing and Black*Star yelling in the background.

She loves the gifts her friends get her-another scarf (this one from Kid and she's too afraid to put it on lest he try to make it symmetrical), new gloves for her uniform and a hardback set of her favorite novels. She gets a few more books and a picture album, and it's wonderful, and everyone else seems to love their gifts as well, and really this feeling that suffuses her is everything that she could want.

Soul helps her clean up after everyone has said their goodbyes and the laughter and the cheer slowly fades. She's still filled with it, though, and he smiles at the way she hums carols under her breath and how she grins without realizing it every time he brushes against her.

"Maka?"

"Hmm?"

"I haven't given you your gift yet."

She blinks at this, drying the last dish. "What?" She hadn't even noticed in the wake of the giftpocalypse that occurred earlier.

"Here," he says, and presses a small box in her hands. She smells a little like cider and dish soap. With fingers slightly trembling because this just feels different, she unwraps the box and is stunned by the heavy silver chain bracelet. It's beautiful and not so delicate that she'll worry about breaking it and she looks up at him, smile wide.

"Oh Soul, it's perfe-"

He darts in and captures her lips because he can't stand not to any longer, and for a moment, he thinks he's ruined everything. But then her fingers wrap carefully in his hair and she's kissing him back.

"Merry Christmas, Maka."


	26. Day 26: Foggy Breaths

**Day 26: Foggy Breaths**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Dinner sits heavy on their stomachs, and Soul and Maka find they don't mind walking the couple of blocks back to their apartment despite the cold. There is something strange and magical about the hush of a cold winter's evening. It's not terribly late, but it feels like they are the only two people in all of Death City.

They don't hurry home. There is nothing urgent waiting for them back at their apartment-no tests or homework, no missions; Blair is working. They just walk. Step after step in the cold night air. If their hands slip together (they do), it isn't mentioned. They watch silvered air escape their mouths and for a while, they're just a boy and a girl out for a walk. Here there are no meisters, no weapons, no kishin-the only madness is the way her hand feels tucked in his and how, when they stop, their breaths mingle together.

In a few minutes, they will be home, and they will be Soul and Maka, weapon and meister and friends and roommates and reality will be there. But right now, it is just a boy and a girl and the fog of their breaths as they draw closer.


	27. Day 27: Ski

**Day 27: Ski**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

She is terrified of learning how to ski, which causes Soul to laugh so hard that he thinks he might have actually burst something. She glares at him fiercely and smacks him about the head a few times.

"This. Isn't. Funny," she insists.

"No, I'm pretty sure this is definitely funny. This might be the definition of funny," he wheezes and then yelps as her hand connects with the back of his skull again. "Ow, geez. Look, it's not my fault that Maka Albarn, 2 star meister, fearless, reckless leader of Spartoi-the girl who faced the Kishin, who flies using nothing but her soul and me to keep her afloat-is scared of the bunny slope."

"I fail to see how that's amusing."

"Ooof course you do." He rolls his eyes, but doesn't stop the smirk on his face. "Look, it's really not so bad, I promise."

Her skeptical look has been improving, he notes. "You promise."

"Scout's honor."

It's her turn to roll her eyes. "You were never a Boy Scout, Soul. Nice try."

It was worth a shot. "I'll be with you the whole way." He can tell that her resolve is beginning to waver.

"All the way?"

"From the very top to the very bottom."

"Promise?"

"Pinky swear," he says.

"Okay."

"Okay? Really?" She nods, and he recognizes the firm set of her jaw and that narrowing of her eyes and he grins. "All right. Let's do this."

She makes it to the bottom, but not without a lot of fumbling and swearing. He thinks it's hilarious and she nearly brains him with one of her ski poles. He's not surprised when it turns out that she loves snowboarding.


	28. Day 28: Knitting

**Day 28: Knitting**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

Neither of them know what prompted it. Trying to figure out just what is going on in Blair's head at any given moment is like trying to decipher ancient Sanskrit, Maka says, rolling her eyes. Soul can't help but agree. He doesn't really mind, though. After all, of all the strange shit their roommate has done over the years, this barely ranks on the "what the fuck scale."

That is, until their apartment begins filling up with knitted items. It starts small. Here and there a tea cozy. Maka got a hat with little cat ears attached. Soul got a scarf for when he rides his motorcycle in the winter. Then there are little knitted covers for all of Maka's books, and Soul has three extra blankets on his bed and they come home one December day to find that the couch has been entirely covered in yarn. They agree somewhere underneath a mountain of mittens that perhaps it is time for some kind of intervention. The problem is that they can't seem to find Blair, just the mounting evidence of her new obsession.

It goes on like this for a few days, and Maka is despairing of ever finding their way out of the apartment again when Blair comes pawing at her window. Maka cracks open her window, letting a gust of frigid air and one black cat in. Blair hops down from the sill and immediately lays down in the pile of scarves that's accumulated on Maka's bed. She looks completely nonplussed by the yarn influx.

"Blair."

"Yess?" the cat replies, nose still tucked under her tail.

"You haven't happened to notice something is different around the house?"

She licks a black paw nonchalantly. "Do you mean the knitting?"

Maka's eyebrow twitches slightly. "Yes I mean the knitting."

"Oh, well that's for you and the little scythe."

"...and just how is all of this," she gestures sharply, "for Soul and me?"

"Well, you don't have fur and it's all cold out, and you won't sleep with each other, so Blair thought that she would help you out a little."

Soul can hear the resultant screeching from his bedroom through his headphones.


	29. Day 29: Power Outage

**Day 29: Power Outage**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

He doesn't expect the pillow to the face-partially because this is his meister for fuck's sake, and she she doesn't do things like pillow fights, and partially because it's fucking dark, and he literally doesn't see it coming.

They'd been in the middle of a Christmas movie when the lights flickered for a second and then everything went dark.

"Soul, did you forget the power bill?" He can't see her in the dim of their living room, but he can feel her accusing stare.

"What? No!"

"Are you sure? Because it was your turn this month."

"Dammit Maka, I said I didn't forget."

"Well there's got to be some reason the power's out."

"Well it wasn't me!" She snorts disbelievingly and Soul grumbles under his breath. He gets up and manages to avoid slamming his shins into the coffee table. He peeks out the curtain and gives Maka a triumphant grin that she can barely see. "See? See that?"

Maka squints. "See what?"

"Exactly. The whole block's dark."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Told you I paid the bill." It is about this time that he receives a disturbingly accurate pillow to the face. "That was not an apology," he grumbles, and he can echolocate Maka by the sound of her muffled giggle. "Oh, that's it." He flings the decorative couch pillow back and is rewarded with Maka's yelp.

If he's stealthy enough, he thinks that he can get out of her range before she retaliates. He makes it halfway across the living room before he gets another pillow to the face. Her aim is eerily accurate.

"No escape, Soul~" she laughs lightly, and he grins in the dark, using her ammo as his shield. He circles close, eyes adjusting to the dark hopefully a little quicker than hers.

"I don't need to escape," he says, and his voice is much closer than she was expecting. She jumps a little and then he pounces, pillow in hand. She shrieks, but it turns into helpless giggling as he smushes the pillow into her face and volleys a secondary attack with his fingers against her ribs.

"Sooul!" she gasps between attacks. He doesn't bother to hide his chuckle as she beats him about the head with the pillow in retaliation. "You jerk!"

"You started it!" he insists, half-heartedly slapping back. He thinks if he can hide his head she can't hit him, and that's effective up until he's burying his head in her stomach and she's curling around him and he's gifted with a bare patch of skin just perfect for his lips. She stiffens completely at the faint kiss she feels ghosting across her stomach.

And then he's blowing the most impressively flatulent raspberry she's ever heard, and she's beating him about the head furiously.

When the power finally comes back on, the living room is almost completely destroyed, and somewhere in the middle of an overturned couch and tornadoed cushions, Soul and Maka sleep the sleep of the exhausted, sides still aching from laughter.


	30. Day 30: Sing Loudly and Obnoxiously

**Day 30: Sing Loudly and Obnoxiously**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

She knows that she doesn't have the best voice in the world. Soul's told her on more than one occasion that she's tone deaf (often while wincing); she doesn't take offense. It simply is what it is. If she maybe sings a little louder around him as a result, well, it's just because it's funny to watch him cringe.

Soul learns early on however, that no matter how bad he thinks his meister's singing is, she's got nothing on Black*Star. He's not much of a singer-for the most part he doesn't try to drag them all out to karaoke every week, and he isn't the kind of guy to randomly burst into song. But there's something about Black*Star and Christmas that makes the ninja want to sing.

Tsubaki says it's something to do with the prevalence of Christmas carols-Black*Star simply cannot help himself. Maka just shrugs and informs Soul that he's always been like this as long as she can remember. Perhaps it's a learned behavior he picked up from Sid. Soul doesn't know what the cause is, but he wants to strangle his best friend for at least a month every year.

The thing is though, even as much as Black*Star's singing (and god help him when he and Maka team up to serenade the cosmos) makes him want to gouge his ears out, Soul's pretty sure that he wouldn't know what to do if the holidays rolled around and Black*Star wasn't there, butchering 'Jingle Bells: Black*Star Style' every twenty minutes.


	31. Day 31: Family and Friend Pictures

**Day 31: Family and Friend Pictures**

**Rating: PG**

* * *

They don't do much to decorate their apartment. After all, they're two teenagers, busy with school and schoolwork and half the time they're too tired to pay attention to what's on their walls. But somewhere along the way they started a tradition. Maka's pretty sure that she knows exactly when the tradition started, and it had quite a lot to do with the Christmas after Soul obtained his scar. In a way, it makes a certain amount of sense. Afterall, she's always enjoyed taking pictures, and their coffee table is already home to several books chronicling Maka's childhood. It's just these days the subject matter has changed, and family pictures have turned to friend pictures.

Slowly, their walls have been filling up with pictures-pictures of the two of them, pictures of their friends. Any time they're all together, Maka makes sure that they get at least one group photo. And every Christmas, she makes sure that everyone gets a little framed collage of pictures.

It's Liz and Pattie dogpiling Kid and his face lost somewhere between panic and pleasure. It's Tsubaki and Maka trying to topple Soul and Black*Star in the pool and Soul with his headphones on asleep on the couch and Kim trying to put Jackie's hair in pigtails. It's the twins hanging from Kilik's arms while he tries to pose and Harvar cracking up as Pattie give Ox bunny ears. It's Kid and Tsubaki rocking out at karaoke night and Maka curled around Liz and Jackie during girl's night and a thousand tiny moments.

It's the one picture she got Marie to take of Chrona and Ragnarock, laughing and smiling at the camera, surrounded by everyone on a picnic table that looks like it's about to collapse.

In the sanctity of their living room, before the welcomed chaos of the annual holiday party descends, Soul gives Maka a locket. On one side, there is a picture, miniature and yet full of life-each of their friends, barely still and brimming with grins. On the other is a picture that she can't pinpoint. Someone (she suspects a very clever, sneaky cat) has captured Soul and her sitting together on the couch, heads bowed together in a rare moment of quiet. She pretends that the dampness behind her eyes isn't there, and he pretends too, clasping the locket around her neck carefully.

Small precious moments line their walls these days, and she can't mistake the small smiles and the shiny eyes of her friends as she gives out this year's collage. Family, they've learned the hard way, is it exactly what you want to make of it, and they treasure each captured memory behind glass.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all for bearing with me for this challenge; I'm sorry about the cluster posting, and so much of it going up after the Christmas season. But, it was a lot of fun, and I'm really glad I did it, and more than anything, I hope you all enjoyed it and had a really amazing holiday season.

All the best,

Vic


End file.
